Heart of the Wolf

by Saranne Dawson

  the depth of the snow up here in the winter and told Daken.

  He nodded. “That’s why a day like today should not be spent indoors. Before long, it will be impossible to leave the fortress."

  He paused briefly. "Speaking of your guide, have you considered what his death must mean for his family? I know that you have pensions for the families of your Guards, but not for such as him. And yet he too died in your service."

  Jocelyn stiffened. Had he brought her out here to continue his tongue-lashing? She stifled her anger and admitted that she had not considered it.

  "If you would change the way your nobles behave, you must first change yourself, Jocelyn,” he said, but not harshly this time.

  "But there is nothing I can do for them now,” she replied defensively.

  "No, not now—but in the spring."

  "But it might be now that they will need it," she said, now horrified that Tanner’s family might suffer because of his service to her.

  "They will be all right. It has long been our custom to provide for the families of those who die on our lands. Gold was sent back with his body.”

  She stared at him in amazement. “But you had nothing to do with his death. And surely you don’t take responsibility for those killed by wolves or in some sort of accident?”

  "It’s not a question of responsibility. It is a matter of knowing that people will go hungry, and knowing too that we have more wealth than we need."

  She lapsed into silence. Although there’d been no accusation in his voice, she felt its sting anyway. She thought about the sickly-looking miners she’d seen on her journey here and how she’d condemned the greedy mine owners for their failure to provide for those men and their families—and yet she’d given no thought to Tanner’s family.

  "You are right, Daken,” she said after a lengthy silence. "I have learned a valuable lesson.”

  He smiled at her. "I think there is much you could learn this winter, Jocelyn. If you wish, you may attend our council meetings. Perhaps we can even help you with your plans.”

  "Thank you,” she said sincerely. She could already see the value in talking her plans over with people who had no stake in the outcome.

  “How will you inform your people so that they can make their decision about whether or not to aid me?”

  "The Council members and I will meet with them in small groups to discuss the matter. Documents explaining the situation have already been sent to the other fortresses, and they will send their answers back here.”

  "And how do your advisors feel?" she asked.

  "Most of them support my position, but a few are as yet undecided. None is opposed. But they will all be objective in their discussions with the people.”

  Jocelyn felt greatly relieved. Despite what he said about the people making up their own minds, she thought it highly unlikely that they would go against their leader and the majority of his council.

  "It might be good for you to attend some of Rina’s classes while you are here Daken went on. You will learn that our children are taught to take their responsibilities very seriously and to set aside their own desires and comforts when those conflict with what is best for the future of all of us.

  Jocelyn doubted him. but was disinclined to argue the point. She considered herself to be a rather astute observer of human nature, and she knew that people always acted in their self-interest. She politely accepted the invitation.

  By this time, they had left the main trail for one that was both steeper and narrow er. and she heard a distant roaring sound that she couldn't identify.

  "What is that sound? she asked uneasily.

  “You will see he replied cryptically, guiding them down a hillside through the forest.

  The roar was deafening by the time they had descended to the bottom of the steep ravine. The horses were moving slowly now. picking their wav carefully, but displaying no nervousness at the noise.

  .And then she saw it—at first through the trees, then in its incredible entirety as they rode out into the open. She reined in her horse and stared, transfixed by the sight before her.

  The waterfall w as many times the height of the one under which she'd bathed, and the volume of water much greater. It cascaded in a great, noisy river down over the black rock. Great shards of ice covered the sides of its path and at its base was a churning pool much larger than the one she d bathed in.

  “There are many waterfalls here, he shouted over the din. “But this is the highest. Most young men feel the need to climb to its top at some point."

  She stared up at the distant top, unable to imagine how anyone could climb those jagged rocks. "Did you climb up there?” she asked.

  “I'm afraid so,” he said with a smile. "But when I look at it now, I’m rather glad that I don’t have a son. Fortunately, girls have more sense than boys."

  They turned the horses around and started back up the hillside. When they had reached a point where she could speak without shouting, she told him about the waterfall she’d seen on her journey here—and then told him about the wolf.

  “Tanner said it probably wasn’t hungry,” she finished, trying on a smile she hoped didn’t look false. "He also said that wolves with blue eyes are very rare, and that his father had once had a similar experience with one.”

  She could not bring herself to look at him—to see those same pale blue eyes. She was sorry she’d told him about it. She did not want her worst fears confirmed.

  “They are rare,” Daken agreed. "And Tanner was probably right; the wolf wasn’t hungry."

  Jocelyn listened for a false note in his voice, but could find none. Feeling better now, she asked if he’d ever seen such a wolf.

  “Several times. All of us have. After all, this is our home.”

  "The truly strange thing was that I wasn’t really afraid—at least not while we stood there staring at each other. Later, of course, I was terrified.”

  "People react differently to dangerous situations. Your escape from the attack on your camp shows that you handle danger well. That is a good quality for a leader, Jocelyn."

  His compliment pleased her—perhaps too much, she thought as she wondered if it might not have been merely an adroit way of moving the conversation away from dangerous grounds.

  When they reached the trail again, he paused to stare up at a large bird circling overhead—a hawk, she thought, though a much bigger one than she’d ever seen. After watching it herself for a moment, she lowered her head and stared instead at his strong profile.

  They rode mostly in silence back to the fortress, stopping once more at the spot where it was visible across the ravine. Once again, she marveled at their "gift” from the gods. But what else had those gods given them?

  “You have yet to ask the question that must be uppermost in your mind, Jocelyn,” he said in that low, deep voice. "Does it frighten you to think that we might have magic?”

  She nodded before she could stop herself as she stared into his eyes and saw not Daken, but that wolf. She averted her gaze quickly.

  "That magic could save your empire,” he said softly.

  "Yes, I know.” She still couldn’t look at him and hated herself for her weakness.

  "The magic too was a gift from the gods, given to us when they departed this world so that we could always protect ourselves.”

  "Then it is true. You are sorcerers." She tried to keep her tone neutral, but she still could barely speak the word ‘sorcerer’.

  “No, not sorcerers. We cannot conjure up visions at will. Our magic exists only for the defense of this land—and even then, it is nothing we do ourselves, but rather that which is done for us.”

  “I don’t understand,” she frowned.

  “It’s difficult to explain—especially since I have only the stories passed down over the generations. But it is said that for every Kassid warrior who rides into battle, there are ten more riding with him unseen.”

  "Ghosts?” she gasped, her green eyes widening in
disbelief.

  He smiled. "So we believe. But their weapons are real."

  "But if it is nothing that you yourselves do, how can you be sure these—these ghost warriors will appear?”

  “We must trust to the rightness of our cause,” he replied. Then he heaved a sigh. "But I must tell you that I will be a very reluctant warrior—as will the others. War is an unnatural thing.”

  Jocelyn thought about all the times she’d listened to her brother and his friends extolling the glories of battle and expressing the hope that they might one day go to war. She’d always thought that it was what all men wanted. Even the nobles often talked of the glory of war—though of course they meant those wars to be fought by someone else.

  Yet here was the leader of the most famous warriors in their world admitting that he had no taste for it. It made no sense.

  "Is that why your people left Ertria all those years ago—because they had tired of war?”

  "In part, yes,” he replied. "The gods called us home to this land, so that we could live in peace.”

  At that moment, they came upon a hunting party returning with fresh meat for the fortress. Jocelyn rode in the midst of the group, feeling again that differentness, that otherness, that she’d felt before with Kassid men. But why should she feel that? If what Daken said was true, they had no real magic of their own, merely the faith that their gods would provide for them in battle.

  There is more, she thought. He has not told me all the truth.

  True to all predictions, winter came with a vengeance to the Dark Mountains. Snow fell intermittently for three days, sometimes coming down so fast that Jocelyn saw nothing but a wall of white beyond the windows and sometimes drifting down slowly through the gray light.

  She was delighted, though a bit awed too by this inundation. Snow fell rarely in Ertria, and on those occasions it vanished almost as it touched ground. But here, it fell and fell—and stayed, changing the shape of everything, rearranging the world beyond the fortress.

  She spent part of her day with Daken and his advisors, listening as they discussed their own

  problems and also explaining the workings of her court and the problems she encountered.

  She was fascinated by the outspokenness of Da- ken’s advisors, who disagreed vociferously among themselves on some occasions and with Daken on others. She began by thinking they were being disrespectful toward him—then ended up wishing aloud that her own advisors would speak their minds more freely.

  The snow finally stopped during the morning of the fourth day, and the sky cleared to a brilliant blue. Rina appeared early in the afternoon, stating that school had been let out for the day so that they could enjoy the break in the weather.

  “But how can you possibly go outside?” Jocelyn asked. It looked to her as though the snow was far too deep.

  Then, even as they stood at the windows, she got her answer. Teams of two horses each began to move slowly through the snow in the courtyard, dragging between them a wide, curved wooden device that pushed the snow before it. When the horses began to have difficulty moving it any farther, it was lifted up by the riders, then dropped again after depositing what looked like a miniature mountain of snow.

  The areas in between had been swept nearly clean and men came along on foot to open gaps in the rows of piled snow. They were followed in short order by boisterous groups of children who began to play in the great mounds.

  Jocelyn laughed in delight as she watched the children build miniature fortresses and pelt each

  other with snowballs. She told Rina that she’d made snowballs once, but it hadn’t worked very well, because there was little snow to begin with and it had melted quickly.

  "Come join us,” Rina urged her. "I will lend you some clothes and boots."

  Jocelyn was still watching the children and opened her mouth to protest that she was too old for such activities. But Rina had already run off to get her some clothes and by the time she returned, it seemed too late to refuse.

  The moment she stepped out into the courtyard, she felt like a child again, remembering all the times she'd wished for snow like this. She picked up some snow, telling herself that she would just see if it made better snowballs than the soft, melting variety she’d seen so long ago.

  And before long, the empress had begun a mock battle with Rina and her friends, who showed no respect at all for her exalted rank.

  Daken came out into the courtyard and immediately saw Rina and her friends, weaving in and out between the high mounds of snow as they pelted each other with snowballs.

  Then he looked around for Jocelyn. Since she hadn’t been in the suite, he’d assumed that she’d come outside with Rina. He was about to risk being caught in the crossfire to ask Rina where she was, when he spotted her.

  His wide mouth curved into a smile and then he laughed outright as she scrambled over the top of one of the mounds and aimed a snowball at a group

  of girls who were attacking from the other side. She was wearing clothes borrowed from Rina and he would never have noticed her if her cap hadn’t fallen off, spilling that beautiful red hair down over her shoulders.

  He withdrew quickly into the shadows of the covered walkway, certain that she wouldn’t want him to see her. Then he stood and watched as she gamboled with the girls, virtually indistinguishable from them when she had once again tucked her hair beneath the cap.

  Seeing this unexpected side of her was a bittersweet experience for Daken. The pleasure came from knowing that she could set aside that formidable reserve, but watching her with his daughter and her friends brought home to him that age difference between them—a gap not obvious when she met with him and his council.

  Jocelyn remained coolly impersonal with him, but it was obvious that she and Rina had become close, and it was through his talkative daughter that Daken had learned most about her. He’d already known that she’d refused Arrat’s proposal of marriage, but Rina had told him that Jocelyn had no intention of marrying anyone. He’d assumed that now that she’d become empress, she’d marry that Ertrian nobleman who’d been pursuing her for so long.

  He thought wryly that he could have done without that particular piece of knowledge. It would be far easier to control his own feelings if he knew that there was someone else in her life.

  Daken was increasingly uncomfortable with his

  feelings for Jocelyn. In the years since his beloved Erina's death, Daken had carried on discreet affairs with several widows, but he’d never been able to convince himself that he wanted to marry any of them and they’d finally given up and found other husbands. He’d been without a woman for a long time now, and he knew that that fact alone made his situation dangerous.

  Still, if it were only a question of wanting a warm, soft body in his bed, there were others who were willing.

  She is not for you, he told himself. The gods would not look kindly upon such a union. He was too old for her. His life was here, while hers lay far beyond the Dark Mountains in the warm plains of Ertria. It would be foolish—and Daken was not a foolish man.

  “On a day such as this, I really do wish I were young again."

  Daken turned, startled out of his thoughts, to find Sheela, one of his advisors, standing next to him. She smiled.

  “Are you too re-living your youth, Daken?"

  He managed to return the smile, though he suspected it might be a bit guilty, given the direction of his thoughts.

  But before he could respond, he saw Sheela staring at the group of girls with a frown.

  "Is that Jocelyn out there?” she asked in a tone of disbelief.

  "Yes—and I don’t think she’d care to have either of us see her."

  Sheela laughed. “What a remarkable young

  woman! It is easy to forget how young she is—or it was until now."

  "My thoughts exactly,” Daken replied drily.

  She turned to him, one dark brow raised in enquiry. “Somehow, I think we might mean different things. Daken, sh
e is truly lovely and possessed of great courage—but she is not for you."

  He nodded, not at all offended by her candor. They were both cousins and life-long friends. "Once again, you have spoken my thoughts."

  Sheela gave him an arch look. "Ive spoken your mind perhaps—but not your heart, I think.”

  As they talked, neither of them had noticed that the snowball battle had moved closer to them as a group of girls came around the end of one of the snow hills. They both heard the shouts and laughter and looked up just as a snowball hurtled past Da- ken’s head, missing it by inches as it thudded against a pillar.

  The group moved on, laughing, but the one who had thrown the snowball stopped and stared at him as her face flushed bright red, contrasting sharply with a pair of emerald-green eyes. He smiled at her, and Sheela called out a greeting. Jocelyn returned the smile and Sheela’s greeting, hesitated, then hurried off to rejoin the girls.

  That evening, they were all gathered around the big fireplace in the great room of Daken’s suite— Jocelyn, Rina, Tassa, Daken himself, and Jakka, Daken's aide and nominated successor, who was unmarried and seemed to divide his time between Daken’s family and his own.

  Jocelyn had come to anticipate these quiet evenings when they gathered here while the winter winds howled beyond the windows. Some days ago, she'd told Daken how much she enjoyed such times.

  "Winter is a time for drawing together,” he’d told her. "During the rest of the year, we’re all busy with our separate lives, so this is a time for being together—for sharing.”

  She thought about those words now as she watched him sitting on the rug before the hearth with Rina, discussing her schoolwork. She’d been touched by the simple honesty of his words and his willingness—so rare among the men she knew—to talk about his feelings.